


Setting our Torch Aflame

by farfarawaygirl



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23433784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfarawaygirl/pseuds/farfarawaygirl
Summary: Sylvie takes stock of the room. Severide is holding court in his apartment, facing off against Cruz in a game of beer pong. All the usual suspects are there; squad, truck, engine, various PD and Med team members. Halstad is standing at Cruz’s side, directing him, and Upstead is standing with Kidd and Natalie by the windows.And then there is the unusual suspects. The out of towners.Gabby Dawson.Peter Mills.Kyle Sheffield.So, all in all, it’s just a lot to take in. Hence the cookies. Sylvie takes an other one, double chocolate this time, and chews it slowly.
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 11
Kudos: 158





	Setting our Torch Aflame

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before 8x18, I haven’t really processed Julie dying yet.

“Did you know that Kyle would be here?” Sylvie looks up to met Emily’s intense stare, pausing with a chocolate cookie halfway to her mouth. She shrugs, and bites the cookie. Taking a moment to chew it, ignoring the persistent gaze of Foster’s dark eyes. 

“Brett!” 

Kyle Sheffield is the least of her problems. 

“It’s fine.” Sylvie says. “We’re fine. It’s whatever.”

“If you say so.”

Emily doesn’t believe her, taking a cookie of her own and savagely chewing it. Looking over her shoulder Sylvie takes stock of the room. Severide is holding court in his apartment, facing off against Cruz in a game of beer pong. All the usual suspects are there; squad, truck, engine, various PD and Med team members. Halstad is standing at Cruz’s side, directing him, and Upstead is standing with Kidd and Natalie by the windows.

And then there is the unusual suspects. The out of towners. 

Gabby Dawson. 

Peter Mills. 

Kyle Sheffield.

So, all in all, it’s just a lot to take in. Hence the cookies. Sylvie takes an other one, double chocolate this time, and chews it slowly. 

“What’s the deal with Mills, because he’s kind of hot?”

Sylvie wonders where to start. Gabby’s ex-boyfriend? Her ex-ambo partner? Former squad member? Rode on truck back in the day? Small business owner?

“Did you know that Sheffield would be here?”

Matt appearing beside her, ends her contemplating an answer to Emily’s question. Sylvie just kind of gives Matt a look, mouth still full of double chocolate chip cookie. He looks stressed, she notes. Arms crossed across his chest, brows drawn down in a frown. 

“I didn’t know.” Which is the honest truth, she didn’t. “I guess Cruz invited him.”

“Do you want me to ask him to leave?” 

Honestly, Matt’s earnestness should be illegal. 

“I’m fine.” She is. She may have been engaged to Kyle, but it was never an all consuming, passionate affair. Seeing him is actually the least emotionally jarring of anyone in the room. “I’m sure that you do not need to kick him out. If I know Kyle, and I do, he’ll leave once the party gets too wild. And as it’s nearly eleven, that’s nearly his cue.”

Matt uncrosses his arms. He’s wearing a navy sweater so dark that it’s almost an inky black, the sleeves pushed up his forearms a little. He’s unfairly attractive. 

“If you’re sure.” Matt seems skeptical, giving her a once over. He steps closer and cups her elbow. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

“You just want to kick him out of your apartment for a second time,” she accuses, smiling at him, “because you liked it so much the last time.”

Matt shakes his head at her. Reaching past her for a cookie. 

“You kick someone out one time and their ex will never let you forget it.”

“Wait,” Peter Mills interrupts, also reaching for a cookie, “which one is Sylvie’s ex?”

Matt shifts, pulling Sylvie by her elbow, so that the two of them face Mills and Foster. 

“Tall blonde, talking with Herrmann.”

“Don’t look!” Sylvie admonishes, putting a hand on Mills shoulder. He looks anyway, scrutinizing Kyle while he chews his cookie. He shares a look with Casey, eyes raised, shaking his head. “What!? What does that look mean?”

Sylvie frowns as the three of them laugh at her. “I don’t think anyone in this room is in a position to lecture me about exes.”

This startled a half laugh from Mills, who briefly smiles at Casey. “I guess not.” He agrees. “But, seriously? That guy?”

“Hey!” Foster objects, “he’s a good poker player.”

“He looks like he has the personality of a clam.”

Matt snorts at Mills report, Sylvie smacks his arm, “watch it, you said that he and I were made for each other.”

“Obviously, I was wrong.”

Sylvie feels that response in her soul. Matt knows she decided to marry Kyle because he said that to her. He sends her a lopsided smile, tilting his head to the side. 

“He’s coming this way!” Mills is gleeful, wrapping an arm around Sylvie, she pushes him away, bumping into Matt who steadies her. 

Where Matt is earnest, Kyle is solemn. He steps over, offering his hand, “Foster.” He shakes and get introduced to Mills, nods briefly at Casey, before looking down a Sylvie. 

“Hey.”

“Kyle.” Sylvie hugs him briefly, not letting him linger. When she steps back, Matt’s hand briefly glances over the small of her back. She knows it’s a show of support. 

“How’s Indiana?”

“Cold.” Kyle replies. He’s giving her a searching look. Sylvie doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but he must find it, because he nods once. “How’s Chicago treating you?”

“It’s good to be home.” She means that. Chicago and the people in this room are her home and her family. 

“Sylvie missed the deep dish too much.” Matt jokes. 

“The mushroom one from Etta’s?” Mills moans, clutching his stomach. “I have had dreams about that pizza.”

“It’s the Fruit French Toast over at Antonella’s that I can’t live without.” Sylvie adds, grinning sideways at Matt. He bumps her shoulder with his. 

“I’m glad you’re happy.” Kyle clears his throat. “I’m about to head off. I’m staying at my folks.” 

“Oh, say hi to Brenda and Jim.”

Sylvie determinedly avoids looking at Foster. 

“Nice to see you, Sheffield.” Casey offers his hand, Kyle shakes it, the whole thing is stilted and awkward. When Kyle leaves, his eyes slide over Brett, a little sad and a little resigned. 

“That wasn’t so bad.”

Matt rubs Sylvie shoulder blades, Sylvie lets out a gust of air. She’s relieved. Turning back to Foster and Mills she catches the look Mills is sending to Casey. He smooths out his features, but there is a bit of a mocking smile at the corner of his mouth. 

“I told you.” She informs Foster. “It’s fine.”

“So if he’s the ex, whose the new guy?”

“What new guy?” Matt and Sylvie ask at the same time. Foster is watching them critically over another cookie. 

Mills shrugs. “Herrmann said something about some guy making moon eyes at you.”

“I am very, very single.” 

“The only people she even spends time with these days, are Julie and Matt.” Foster grins. Mills eyebrows raise again. 

“We don’t spend a lot of time together.” Sylvie scoffs. “I mean, maybe a little.”

Matt’s just watching her stumble through this one, one of his slow smiles in place. Sylvie grabs an other cookie, thank you Cindy Herrmann, and takes a bite. It’s oatmeal raisin. She hates oatmeal raisin. She swallows with difficulty just holding the cookie. 

“You hate oatmeal raisin.” Casey observes fondly, taking the cookie from her and finishing it. That does little to remove the suspicious look on Mills’ face. 

“Right, I mean, common knowledge.”

“What’s common knowledge?” Gabby joins them, beer in hand. 

“Brett’s aversion to oatmeal raisin cookies.” Mills slings an arm around Gabby, pulling her closer. Foster is just watching the scene unfold, a look of barely constrained amusement on her face. 

“Legendary.” Gabby acknowledges. Behind them Cruz sinks a shot, and the table explodes in raucous cheers. “Some things never change.” Her smile is thoughtful as she turns back. “And some things do.” Her eyes rest for a moment on where Casey’s arm disappears behind Brett’s back. 

There’s a weird beat of silence after she speaks. 

Cindy comes over, jacket already on, “sorry to interrupt but I wanted to let you know, Sylvie, that Christopher will bring those baby books to you next shift.” She kisses Sylvie’s cheek, smiles at Gabby, Mills and Foster, patting Matt’s arm as she moves to go. “See you all in a few days!”

“Baby books?” 

“Oh, ah,” Sylvie shakes her head, “not me. Julie, my birth mom. It’s complicated.”

Gabby is giving her a look. It dawns on Sylvie that she can’t read her old partners face anymore. She immediately is thankful that this probably means Gabby can’t read hers. Small blessings. Matt must sense her awkwardness because he speaks up. 

“Foster, did you see that Da Costa is here? Weren’t you trying to make that happen?”

“Where? When?” Suddenly Emily’s interest lays beyond them. She sees who she’s looking for by the windows, punches Casey’s shoulder in appreciation, winks at Brett, “you good to make your own way home?” She doesn’t wait for a reply. 

“At least one person on ambo has a love life.” Mills teasing, makes Sylvie roll her eyes. 

“What about you, Peter Mills, are you seeing anyone?”

“I can to this wedding single, and ready to mingle.”

Brett sees her exit, “and with that, I’m going to go and catch up with Stella. See you later.” She smiles, moving past them toward Kidd. There. She did it. Expect, she doesn’t really want to talk to Kidd, doesn’t really want to talk to anyone. 

She swerves left, and finds her coat and purse in the pile, heads for the door. It’s a twenty minute walk home, but she forgoes an Uber and starts off along the river walk. 

“Brett!”

Before she even turns who knows who it will be jogging up beside her. 

“Sylvie, wait up!” Matt’s still struggling to zip up his coat, hat pulled low on his forehead. 

Bewildered, Sylvie asks, “did I forget something?” Matt pulls even with her, fumbling with his zipper until she bats his gloves hands away, zipping it in one try. 

“What are you doing leaving already?”

She lays down the lapels of his coat, already back in motion, Matt keeping time with her feet. 

“I’m all partied out.”

He gives her a look. 

“Really! It had nothing to do with Kyle. That’s over. It’s been over for months! Technically, your thing with Dawson is more recent, and I’m not chasing you down in the night to talk about it.”

Mostly because she doesn’t want to talk about it. Doesn’t want to hear about them getting back together. She must have said too much, because Matt is reaching out and grabbing her arm. 

“That’s over.”

Sylvie feels tears behind her eyes. She didn’t mean to say so much, to show her cards, she knows how she feels about Matt. She also knows he doesn’t the feel the same for her. 

“I didn’t ask.” Is her lame reply. Truthfully, she doesn’t really believe him. “Casey , it’s fine. I’m fine. I didn’t leave because of Kyle. I left because...” she cuts herself short. 

“Left because what?”

“Casey,” there is a fine mist of snow and rain falling around them. “Go back up to your party.”

“Not my party.”

Sylvie stood helplessly in the damp, not sure what to say, not sure where to look. 

“Sylvie. I think I made a mistake.” Oh, God. He was going to say it. He was going to tell her he still loved Gabby. This was it. Sylvie closed her eyes and counted back from ten. “I made a mistake last year, because I was going to ask you out, and I didn’t. Instead I told you that you were meant for Sheffield.”

Distorted, Sylvie tries to understand where he’s going with this confession. 

“I wanted to ask you out, but I didn’t and I lost almost the entire past year.”

“When were you going to ask me out?” That seems really important. Like, Sylvie feels like her whole future hangs on that balance. “Specifically.”

Matt’s taken aback. “What?” He looks down, swipes a hand over his face. “Like the shift before you got engaged.”

“So, instead you told me that we were made for each other?”

He’s crimson in the street light. 

“I told you, I think I made a mistake.”

“Well, don’t risk it if you only think so.”

Sylvie’s feet are moving again, she doesn’t want I be here. Matt head is just spinning because Dawson is here, she doesn’t need to get caught up in that. 

“Sylvie!” His voice is louder, more urgent, and Matt places himself in front of her, his arms on hers, giving her no choice to met his gaze. “I know I made a mistake. I should have asked you out then. I should have kissed you when you were changing the bandage on my neck. I should have asked you out on the back of Truck 20 those few weeks ago. I didn’t. But I didn’t do it because I can’t risk losing something so important to me.”

“Matt.” Sylvie’s stumbling over herself, not really sure how to react. “Your head is not on straight. Gabby’s here, and it has you spinning out. It’s fine, we’ll pretend this didn’t happen.”

Matt reaches out and kisses her instead. Kisses like he means it. Hands pulling her in, arms wrapping her up, mouth searching for answers. Sylvie hardly has time to think before her body reacts for her. Traitor, she thinks, even as she anchors herself to Matt. Stop! She cautions as her heart flutters in her chest. 

But she doesn’t stop. Neither does Matt, who seems to be singularly focussed on expressing to her physically what his words couldn’t. A car alarm going off down the street makes them break apart. 

“I promise you, my head is on straight.”

Sylvie’s hands are playing with soft hair behind his ears, she hears his words, and tries to come up with a reply. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Matt is grinning now, amber light from the street lights painting his skin. “Okay, you believe me.”

“I could do with some more convincing,” Sylvie hardly has the words out before he’s kissing her again, pushing her back against the railing of the river walk. Kissing Matt is an experience. He’s confident and commanding, like when he running into a fire, but there is a vulnerability there that makes Sylvie’s heart sing. He’s vulnerable with her. For her. “Matt?” 

He nods a little as he moves his lips to her neck. Sylvie squeezes her eyes shut, trying to find a reason to stop this. A passing cars headlights give her the answer. 

“Matt, stop for a second.” He pauses, and Sylvie immediately wishes he hadn’t. She is all riled up, her heart thundering in her chest, the saving grace is she feels his heart thundering right back. And right there, right then, she knows. This is was she wants. “Do you want to drive, or are we walking home?”

“I’ll drive.” 

Neither of them really move, they stay there, entangled. Matt’s face is still buried in her neck, she can feel the prickle of his stumble, the warmth of his breath. He runs his nose, cold from the night air, up the side of her neck, and pulls back from her ear. Stepping back, he reaches for her hand, leading her to his trucks. 

It’s takes them a long time to make it to her front door. After her helps her into the passenger side, they get sidetracked, Matt’s hips squeezed between her thighs as he kisses her. Then again when he gets into the drivers side, Sylvie finding a spot on his neck that makes him groan. They kiss in the elevator, missing the ding of her floor, and ending back in the car park. 

Sylvie has a hard time opening the door because Matt is holding her back to his front, driving her crazy. When they do get inside he purposefully places the distance of the kitchen island between them. Sylvie is on fire, every nerve ending short circuiting. She feels how swollen her lips are. 

“We can’t do anything more tonight.”

Sylvie faces a face at Matt. 

“Seriously,” he insists. “I want to do this right. Take you out. Wine you and dine you.”

His words choice and expression make her laugh. Sylvie rounds the counter, backing Matt against the fridge. “What if we just kiss a bit more?” Matt makes a noise, as she slides he hands inside his coat. “Talk a bit. Sleep.”

“Sleep?”

“You can be seriously considering going back to your apartment.”

“Just sleep?”

Sylvie shrugs, falsely causal, trying not to let her eyes roll back her head. Matt’s stoking the skin on the small of her back. Hands warm and calloused, touch feather light. 

“Let’s go to my room.”

“Sylvie.” Matt’s tossing his head back, groaning even as he smiles.

“What?! I’ll behave, I promise!” Even though he’s shaking his head at her, Matt’s letting her pull him to her door, following her willingly. Once she snaps it closed behind him, she pushing off his coat. Matt returns the favour, toeing of his shoes, and waiting while she does the same. Sylvie pulls him over to her bed, falling backwards and taking him with her. She knew he would, but is impressed none the less when he doesn’t fall totally on her, her hands skim up the soft material of his sweater, caressing his arms. 

This, then, is something she has wanted for a long time. He’s kissing her neck, softly. Almost tenderly. 

“I want this too.” He stills, pulls back a little so he can look at her. “I’ve wanted to tell you how I feel, how you make me feel.” Have his eyes always been so blue? “You make me feel safe. You make me feel prepared for whatever comes next.”

Sylvie feels suddenly exposed, scared that he doesn’t really want this, and will now pull back. He’s looking at her so intently, like he’s trying to memorize this moment. 

“I think you might be the only person in the world who has ever made me feel like who I am, just as I am, is enough.” His voice is raw. Sylvie understands it for what it is. Not an undoing of his previous relationships, but a level setting for how they will be. She had thought that over the past two years she had grown to understand him, more than just as a friend, but to understand why he was the way he was. Why he did things the way he did. She didn’t think he was aware of her understanding of him. “Sylvie,” his weight shifted, settled more on her, “your happiness is all I think about.”

She pulls him down more firmly on her, grabs a hold of his sweater, uses it to bring him closer. When she kisses him, there is a sweetness to it. A promise and a acknowledgment. They understand one an other.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m an essential worker, and the world is insane! Stay safe! Stay home! Stay woke!


End file.
